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A vacuum existence, not quite domestic. To exist together like this.. feels wrong. Doesn’t feel right.
To Kakihara, it feels wrong to be this still, to be alive. It feels wrong to be this close, to come without any agony.. To come and allow oneself to be cleansed, to be held. It’s scary. So fucking scary.
“I do wish you would kill me.”
Kakihara is lucky he cannot feel it. Kakihara is probably lucky to even be alive, his split cock no longer bleeds.
The bath water Ichi bothered to draw has long been tainted and drained, Kakihara wonders if their skin will ever dry. He wonders if his prick is still hard. He knows a hand from behind is poking and prodding at the loose remains of his lower piercings, he feels a damp chin resting on his shoulder. Blank eyes surely gazing, admiring him. What was left of him.
At this point, it truly is a shame to be alive.
“Come on, now. Kill me already.”
All he can get in response is a hoarse little whine, all pressed against his nape.. muffled and wet. How pathetic. How cruel. Kakihara almost wishes Ichi would just leave his body outside, wherever that is anymore.
Maybe the breeze would be more courteous to his wounds. Maybe, if he’s lucky, his body could still sting and decay. He could still hurt.
As he thinks it, the hand tending to his rings moves back to his pubes, feeling around before shaking itself forward again. It tries to hold what’s left of him together, tries to make him whole again.
Kakihara still can’t feel it.
“Wish you’d stop saying that. You’re not supposed to want it, you know..”
His other hand moves to grip at the older man’s waist. Doesn’t even have the will to scratch, to let him bleed again. Ichi is just about devoid of any urge, any drive left in himself to hurt. His cock has long been spent, anyway.
He is awake.
He rubs and feels around Kakihara’s chest now, at all his fuzz. Petting at his skin, he’s not even trying to make him feel good.. he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He pecks timid, brief kisses to his neck. He wipes all that remains of his own snot off on his back. He apologizes for that.
This isn’t how you’re supposed to love. To Kakihara, this is disgusting. This is selfish.
“You know, kid.. I hate you. I really do.”
“Hm.. I love you, too.”
Bullshit. If Ichi really loved him, he would slam Kakihara’s face into the faucet. If he really loved him, he would tear his cock further, maybe pull one of the halves off and force it down his throat. That would be nice. That would be cool.
“Why are you so weird..”
“Why are you still here?”